The Death God
by turtlesparadise
Summary: During the Wutai War, Legend earns the nickname "Death God of the Battlefield," along with a fearsome, almost mythic reputation. This story details the events in battle, and what Legend goes through both during and after the war. One-shot, complete.


Children screamed and scattered when they saw him coming up over the small mountain, some cowering against their mothers as they fled. These were the last few who had not yet evacuated from Wutai, though they were on their way out of the village, bound for the small fleet of boats near the northern edge of the island. Godo Kisaragi had given the order to evacuate days before, and most citizens complied immediately. There were, of course, a few stragglers here and there who had quite literally missed the boats that were to evacuate them from the small island country. These were the families now teeming out from the west end of the village, fleeing in the opposite direction as Legend was as he approached the war-torn village.

He'd hacked and carved his way up this mountainside village, a cutlass in one hand, a revolver in the other, and chain bombs strewn over his arm. Legend had nearly depleted his entire stock of projectiles and was now relying heavily upon both the materia enhanced sword and firearm. Though the sword was not his usual weapon of warfare, it proved to be most effective in cutting a swath across the battlefield. What the bombs did not get, Legend's hand-held weapons would, although death at the end of a sword left its mark not only on the dead, but on Legend as well. Legend was covered from head-to-toe in blood that was not his own, his golden hair matted down with dark crimson. Dead bodies lay in his wake, far too many for him to even contemplate, and bits of flesh stuck to him here and there from those who had been blown to bits by his bombs.

It was an odd and surreal experience to be _wearing_ parts of the enemy, and it was then that Legend wondered if perhaps he'd become the monster he'd always tried to avoid. He had no love for Shinra; they'd robbed his hometown of Junon from so many things. The underwater reactor that lurked below the beautiful waters of Junon Harbor was like a deadly, silent beast; leaking toxic mako into the ocean that Legend so loved.

But then, it was that slow exposure to Mako throughout his childhood that transformed him into the killing machine he was today. Legend's speed and reflexes were known to be unnaturally quick; _inhumanly_ fast. Perhaps he should thank Shinra, Inc., for their utter recklessness; after all, it had made him strong and fast and nearly invincible on the battlefield.

For all the strengths continuous mako exposure had given Legend, there had been some drawbacks. First was an intolerance of extremely cold temperatures, which generally did not present a problem unless Legend had business to tend to on the northern continent. The other side effects were varied and never steady; insomnia, occasional memory lapses, and, rarely, he would have seizures. Pharmaceuticals controlled all of these maladies, or managed them as well as possible.

As he walked slowly up that rise, Legend could see the fear in the eyes of those fleeing mothers and their children. What would Laurelei think if she could see her father now, covered in the blood of who knew how many dead soldiers? His daughter was safe, thankfully - back in Midgar's Sector Five with a trusted friend, at least he could rest easy with that knowledge. Elmyra Gainsborough had agreed to keep an eye upon her, begging Legend to promise her, _promise her_ , to look after her husband and to make sure his life was spared. Though Legend was fighting against Shinra, he vowed to do everything he could to ensure the safe return of Elmyra's beloved husband. He would watch his back, and defend him if it came to that.

By the time Legend had set foot on the island nation of Wutai, Trooper Gainsborough had been killed by Wutaian rebel forces in a skirmish near Fort Tamblin, and the body was already on its way back to Midgar along with a trite letter from Shinra' s Army offering their condolences. Legend's hackles rose when he found out, and he considered for a moment turning around and going home. Not fighting, let them all kill each other for all he cared.

But no, he'd been paid to do a job, and he would do it. For it was not revenge against Shinra that drove Legend to do the things he did; working as a mercenary was merely a way he could utilize his unique, mako-given talents, and a means for him to provide Laurelei with everything she needed.

 _What she needs right now is her daddy_ , a little voice sounded in Legend's brain, and he nodded. The war was at a turning point; he'd single-handedly killed nearly two hundred men in one day, and he was tired. Bone tired.

It was time to go home to see his little girl, and to tell Elmyra how very sorry he was for her loss.


End file.
